The Death Factor
by Mat Glue
Summary: Never thought that being dead could be so, well, typically boring. You go and get all these ideas that passing is one of the coolest things. You get to be a ghost, a poltergeist! Course, Sirius Black just HAD to get the lamest job a dead could get.
1. Dead

**...The Death Factor...**

Sirius Black was known for his looks, his pranks on Snape, his best friends James and Remus, and at a time, Peter. As a Black, his parents had always been optimistic about his future. "What a perfect Pureblood you are!" And Sirius Black had always been proud to be a called some sort of rebel. He loved flying his motorcycle, catch some underwear that had been hanging to dry on his way or try to sneak into the girl's dormitory, at night of course. Ah! Those were the good days, he thought. But what made him the most proud was his godson, Harry. Yep, THE Harry Potter.

The kid had some spunk (and good looks). He was strong, had a certain disregard for rules, had his head in the newspapers headlines and was right now, duelling Voldemort. Yes, Sirius Black was very proud. Expect that Sirius Black was dead.

The understanding of that fact only came later, much later actually. You don't really realise straight away. You're in the middle of a fight with one of your cousins, Bella's the one, and suddenly you just HAD to fall threw THAT veil. How TYPICAL could you get? Sirius, you stupid prick!

To resume, I fell through the veil, got back up and punched Bella in the face. It can still imagine having my knuckles shooting between her eyes, an electrik feeling coursing through my arm as it finally came into contact with her skull. That's when the dreams stop. She's still laughing, I'm still standing, and my fist, not only as it come in contact with her head, it's gone right through!

I sigh at the memory.

What followed went like a blur. I don't know of how I walked away, or maybe glided, not sure. But I left the place like a whirlwind.

Time flies differently when you're dead (yeah, finally figured out that I must have died), things sometimes go into slow motion (it can be quite gruesome, really. Never got to see Snape cleaning his ears out? No one?), or suddenly speed up, and shit! It's already Christmas! Fred, don't forget the presents! It's not tiring, I actually never get to be tired. I can't remember once (since I died, that is) closing my eyes or sleeping. I'm always there, always awake, always _aware_. Shame that no one ever gets to SEE me, FEEL me, or even HEAR me! Because,hell I can't stop talking to myself!

I sometimes have the urge to wave my arms in front of Harry, make him know that I'm there for him. But it as no use really. I might be dead, I'm not a ghost. I have no affect at all on the living world. And I tell you now, you can't get more boring.

So, I usually spend my days wandering from place to place, Hogwarts sometimes, to see how Harry's doing (and No! I don't go into the girls dormitory anymore! Even though my state can perfectly permit it now). Into Hogsmeade a couple of times, spying on other people's lives. I usually keep away from the Ministry, not going back there I try to convince myself. I can't seem to want to hunt down Death Eaters, or even Voldermort, doesn't seem to be any sense in doing so. There's nothing I can do anymore. I've studied ghosts enough to know that I'm a Wandering Soul, and things couldn't get worse.

Condemned to live the world to it's end and maybe father yet, to take no part in the web of time for I'm been banned from it, and Blah Blah Blah blah. I could go on forever about the subject, literally. How utterly BOoooring..

So while I'm talking to myself, I stay with Harry. I did promise to keep him safe, a promise to James or to myself, who knows. As I can't really anymore, I just... let's say, stick around.

* * *

A first chapter, a prologue, just for the fun.

Review? that will be nice.


	2. Mismatched dreams

**Of Harry And Hermione. The Impossible Match. (Still Don't Understand How It Could Work Out, So Don't Flame Me – Sirius.)**

OR

**Don't Trust Dreams**

It was one of those misty mornings at Hogwarts again when I decided to haunt the grounds, gliding down the hill and through the bushes. Glancing at a precise Junerbell bush I just had to grin. That was the place where I first snogged Prissy Pepergroom. It had perpetual white flowers drooping over like a curtain. Fond memories they were.

Hogwarts had the capacity of making me remember all the small details I'd lived, memories of my friends. The lake was one of these special places I was fond of. It'd been just after our OWLS, when Peter had confessed he didn't know how to swim. James and I had then felt the obligation to- not teach Peter- but throw him in the lake and taunt him from the land. "Come on Wormtail! You can do it before the squid gets you!"

"I can't swim! Get me out! I'm drowning!" Peter had dog-paddled a little before plunging under the water from exhaustion. Wormtail had never really been a fit kid, more than a few pounds too much around the waistline, see what I mean? I could remember bitterly that good-natured Remus had saved the rat. How ironical! Remus was a werewolf, and by definition, a monster every full moon; however, he'd always had a kind disposition towards people. Maybe it would have been best if he'd left the traitor there to die.

Well, now that I'm dead, I might as well, try not to think about Peter the Traitor, but just about Peter.

I decided to regain the castle, and in a flash I was back in the boy's dormitory looking down at Harry, who wasn't sleeping quite soundly, trashing from underneath his covers. "Harry, come on, fight it!" I told him. He slowly relaxed back in his sheets, muttering under his breath. "Sirius" he whispered.

"Yep, that's it Harry, Good all Sirius is here," I started talking to him even though he couldn't possibly hear me. "Went down to the lake this morning. Did I ever tell you about Prissy? No, probably not. She was a year older than me. She had a divine pair of... Anyway. She was Hufflepuff you know. She was the prettiest of her year, really.

"Course, not many people knew about some of her nasty habits. She was unable to eat without spreading herr meal over th whole table. Worst than your friend Ron, honest. There were actually rumours that she was half Oger. She ignored the jokes. Anyway, Prissy wasn't perfect, far from it, but she did have something special that made me love her, maybe it was the eating thing, dunno. Never doubted that food flying in every direction was a killer for seduction. So, what about you Harry? Got a special girl on your mind?"

There was a faint indecisive "Mh" from Harry before he started snoring gently in his pillow. A discreet smile curved his lips. "Hermione," he mumbled in his sleep and turned around in his bed abruptly which made me fly from his side where I had been sitting. I really hated, no, despised having my Harry going "through" my immaterial body. I needed to preserve any illusion that would make me believe that this fake conversation was actually happening.

"Really now?" I asked. "Picked a smart witch, you know. Maybe too smart, stop you from getting in any trouble at all. No pranks will be secret from her." I kept silent for a second. "Hermione, then? I might just go and visit her." With those last words I found myself in the girl's dormitory. It was easypisy to find her bed, you just had to play 'spot the large towers of books'. And so I did.

They were obscure volumes, some had the widths of a oliphant's bosom. I read some of the titles. Some were about Ancient Runes, or for Transfiguration class. I shuddered about the large potions one. I was surprised to find between 'Divination for Dummies' and 'Strange Singing Strawberries' a booke named 'Identifying the Undentified' that felt faintly familiar. The same went for 'The Styx and other such Chimerical Mysteries'. Anyway, my attention soon slipped from the books, or else my theory on not being able fall asleep out of boredom would be proved wrong.

Hermione quickly got up and into her night-gown. I swear I didn't try to look; I also remember saying that I wouldn't visit the girls dormitories anymore. I suppose habits (not bad ones you know) die hard. She walked towards the bathrooms; I followed, good willed, and decided to sit down on a chair in the corner while she brushed her teeth with a muggle toothbrush.

"Did you know that Harry fancies you?" I asked her. There was no sign at all that she had noticed me in the slightest; she continued to brush her teeth furiously, foam dripping from her mouth and into the sink. "It makes sense really. You're best friends, smartest witch of your generation probably." I just couldn't stop myself from glancing at her well rounded forms. "You're certainly not ugly," I choked trying to regain my composure. I changed the subject _subtly_. "But maybe the bushy hair needs a little taming, you got a nest on your head, you know."

"Maybe I should cut it," Hermione suddenly spoke up to no one after have rinsed her mouth with water. There was still a speck of toothbrush on her cheek, which she wiped off quickly.

"No, don't cut it. Can't you put a spell on it, so it'll be less... massive?" I suggested I had never really been used to this girl talk in my living days, but maybe the traumatic chock of dying had altered that. Or maybe it was just the effects of total boredom, which was more sensible if you asked me.

"Wouldn't like Harry to choke on it, that's all, he still has a war to fight, you know," I continued on. "Don't want you to go and kill him when the whole world is resting on his shoulders, it would be SUCH a waste. Plus, he's my godson, so keep that hair of YOURS out of his face, you HEAR me girl?" I didn't expect her to answer, so I left. If she was going to be Harry's next girlfriend, I was sure he wouldn't appreciate me goggling at her like I had just did, not when she was getting into the shower anyway.

Time whizzed away.

Before I knew it, I was back in the Great Hall, noise and laughter bubbling from the young students while they ate their breakfast.

What could I do today? Mh… Seen Snivellus private, very private, mind you, store. Never knew he could have such interesting magic underwear (for himself)- and a _daughter_. Yep, you heard be right. It was total shock to, you might have guest. Who would have approached that slimmy git in the first place? It's at those times that I wish I was a poltergeist.

I had already gone and checked those sewers. I has always wondered if the toilets contents ended up into the lake. The answer is YES! That's where you can all go: "Eww…" Glad that Harry hadn't been aware of that fact when he did the First task in the Fifth year Tournament. Suppose the Giant Squid eliminates the surplus. Maybe I'd check the forest again, and Gwarp.

Meanwhile I trailed behind the Slytherins, watching Malfoy smirking as he showed his new possessions sent by his dear father: a Wand Holster for Duelling, probably sown with Dark Magic. "Wait till tonight, got a surprise for Potter," he was saying to his two goons, what were their names already? Couldn't bother remembering. But it was fun looking at them trying to eat, and listen to Malfoy at the same time: never thought that eating could get so tricky when you had such small brains, which made me wonder why Prissy had been unable to eat properly in the first place. Anyway, I was glad it had been her ONLY flaw back then, not like the two human boulders that were sitting at the Slytherin table. I was already naming more than a few when Harry entered the Hall. I forgot about Malfoy and slumbered away to the Gryffindor table.

As I passed I caught a couple of words from a conversation between the sixth year girls.

"He's so HOT," Parvati was saying to her friend Lavender. "That hair, doesn't it just make you want to thread your fingers in it?" The girl sighed.

"That's my Boy… I mean, yours James," I corrected. Sitting down next to her, I observed how she'd prepared herself early that morning to look 'stunning' as I'd already heard her say more than once. All that for Harry. She'd let her dark locks fall over her shoulders. They shone in the Great Hall's light, maybe a little too much. The word 'dazzling' associated with 'blinding' came to my mind.

"But Parvati. You know he's dangerous. You'll probably get hurt on one of his adventures. Besides, didn't he, like, totally ignore you at the Ball in Fourth year?" Parvati pretended she hadn't heard anything.

Sirius sneered. "Don't be a kill joy, you." Parvati would probably be able to make Harry smile, while Hermione would probably force him to work overtime, bound him in ropes and send him off to the library. What a gruesome fate, don't you agree?

"Here he comes!" Parvati whispered excitingly as Harry approached the Gryffindor table. Parvati got up straight away from her seat to accost him. "Hello Harry. Slept well?" she asked beaming. Her smile was contagious making Harry sport the smallest of grins.

"What did I say! Sirius Black is always right!" Wait, even better, I was able to guess what Harry was about to say.

"Oh, hullo Parvati. Yeah, slept well. What about you?" Harry said just as I mouthed the words at the same time. "Too easy" I mumbled. "Pathetic", I just had to add.

Parvati shooed Ron away so Harry could sit down conveniently next to her. She graciously brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and sat close, making Harry slightly uncomfortable with small space between them. I beamed. Harry had just fallen into a well prepared trap of which he wouldn't be able to escape before breakfast could end. Not that it was a very unpleasant trap, well _I_ wouldn't have minded being in Harry's socks. I noticed that these were bright pin and green. Dobby must have passed by some time ago, or maybe it was one Hermione's own creation.

"Cereals?" asked Harry, taking the bowl and putting it right into Parvati's hands. A second of distraction was all Harry needed to get up and flee.

"Harry?" Parvati called in surprise, but it was too late, the seat next to her was now empty.

"Harry!" I sighed; just as things were getting interesting. I noticed that that godson of mine had hidden next to Ron and behind Hermione's bushy hair. "Hermione." I glided over to the three friends.

"Harry, don't be silly. She fancies you,' Hermione was saying.

"No she doesn't," Harry was whispering. "She saw last week in the tea fumes that she and I were _destined _to be together..."

I watched the two in particular, leaving Ron out a moment while he was busy shoving food in his mouth.

Now, back to serious things. Why would Harry fancy Hermione? The girl had saved me from the Dementor's kiss with the help of her brains, bless her soul and all. I was ever thankful of course. But she wasn't funny, she was book working Gryffindor. Course, she had a cool head, I had to confess that she was courageous enough to go with Harry to the Department of Mysteries like that, I mean, to the Ministry, not... Oh, you know what I mean! ANWAY! She looked nice, but wasn't half as pretty as Parvati. Hermione had a bossy side that made all the Gryffindor populace and more sigh with annoyance.

Breakfast was suddenly over. I was presently walking the three of them down for Double Potions with Snape earlier than usual thanks to Hermione that wanted to ask the Potion Master a couple ("Just a couple" she'd said. _Sure_...) of questions on the properties of Skimflesh. They crossed a couple of Slytherins that had the decency to glare at Harry (the true Gryffindor that he was), then an unusual man in purple robes with a muggle top-hat and finally Mrs Norris on duty sneaking down the corridors. Nothing really _exciting_. Wish Harry could be a little more active sometimes. Oh, and here goes the man with the hat again… I always pick up on those kind of insignificant details.

Potions promised better times, Merlin thank you.

"I'm going to kill you Malfoy!"

What did I say about better times!

Hermione and Ron were barely keeping Harry from pouncing onto the laughing form of Draco Malfoy. Written with his wand on the blackboard were the words 'You should **Sirius**ly consider St Mungo's, Potter.' It wasn't a very good pun, I must say, but still very affective.

"Come on Harry! Get him in the guts!" I was jumping up and down excitingly, punching thin air with my fists. Right. Left. I was imagining again. I would have climbed on a desk, and jumped onto Malfoy to bring him down in a clatter of papers and breaking desks. I could already see in my mind spit flying, and blood woozing from a broken nose. I would have taken the potion-testing rod and put it to better use. You could guess my disappointment when Hermione, of all people, cleared the blackboard with a sweep of her wand calming Harry down enough to not lash out at Malfoy's head, or guts in fact.

"Can you wait for tonight, Potter?" Malfoy asked. "A Duel, just me and you, at midnight?"

Hermione was busy shaking her head. "Harry, remember what happened last time!"

Ron was smirking evilly. Harry was so going to beat Malfoy to bloody pulp. "You can get him! He even asked you, nicely! You can't refuse, Harry!"

Hermione sent Ron death glares.

"Will you have the courage not to wet your pants and actually be there this time?" Harry shot back at Malfoy, his green eyes flashing, only half listening to his friends.

Draco sneered. "I'll be there. We'll see then who will be running back to their mummy. Oops. Just forgot. You don't have one, Potter. Midnight, Third corridor. "

"I'll be there."

Well, maybe it wouldn't be that boring after all! I clapped my hands with glee, forgetting about the pain that Harry was probably feeling right now. Understanding the living while I was dead didn't turn out to be my forte. Again dead aren't known for their caring nature, but for their selfish manners. I started wishing that something out of the ordinary in the lives of my godson and his friends would happen, something that would finally entertain me. Something wild. Something dangerous. The living world had become a stage, and I was the greedy child waiting for the players to finally walk out from behind the curtains. I was still Sirius Black, but at my worst.

Maybe I was finally loosing touch with reality, I think, which would explain why I once saw the Trio sporting fluffy green hats because they feared that the Ministry would go after them. That and some WEIRD vision of Harry pregnant. I'll elaborate another time, maybe.

It was already late, and before I had time to say "Fluffy" the sun had already fallen behind the horizon. I was trailing behind our three heroes hidden under James' Invisibility Cloak again. I couldn't see them, but I could still hear them quite well.

"Ron, stop jabbing you elbow into my side!"

"Not my fault if you're as tall as a gnome Hermione." There was a clear "Ouch" when Hermione decided she'd had enough and deliberately stepped onto his foot, except that it was Harry's.

It was followed by: "I'm so sorry Harry. Your foot's hurt, we might as well _TURN AROUND_ straight away. Can't duel with a _broken_ foot..." She'd practically yelled out the two words with all the bossy tone she could muster, which resulted in the slight hissing sound that suddenly developed in Ron's ear.

"Hermione! First, my foot is not broken, second, you _are_ as tall as a gnome, third, I'm not backing up. Malfoy is going to have what he _deserves_."

"Who's talking about dessert?" Ron blurted out. Harry took no notice of him, neither did Hermione.

Hermione tried to reason Harry out of it like the good girl she was. "What good is it going to do? Will you feel better after it?" she asked.

"Well, Harry, beating the crap out of a Malfoy _always_ feels good," I told Harry. Really, why were they making simple into complicated? Malfoy provoked Harry, Harry must get revenge. Hermione was trying to spoil my fun! Again! Couldn't she just shut up for a second and let Harry think things out on his own? Of course not! I huffed.

"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation. "Malfoy is going to _pay_." This is MY godson talking!

"Play? Sorry mates, forgot my colouring books. Now, Can we move?" Ron's voice was unusually loud. "Anyway, I think I have something in my ear. Keeping hearing some kind of busing..."

"Yes, he will pay" Hermione was saying. "But for what?. Because he did that stupid pun that three years _old_ could come out with?"

"No, not _gold_, I wish it was," Ron was saying, "Something in my ear..."

"Yes! I mean No! Because he insulted... he knows that I... I can't let him make fun of..." Harry seemed to be having a hard time finishing his sentences. "Hermione, please! You know why."

Well I didn't, so could they hurry with the talking, _please_?

"Really, do I?" She breathed hard, as if she was going to face a bull, a BIG bull that was right now charging her. "It's because of Sirius." She paused. "Say it Harry." She looked at him expectantly. "It's because of _Sirius_."

"_Furious_! Course I am, I have something in my ear, and I've got the slight impression that you're not really listening to me!"

…

"Sirius," Hermione said again.

… oh.

They were talking about me. It always had that kind of effect when the were talking about my death. I didn't know what to say. Harry was searching for words, but they were failing him too. "Malfoy must pay," he repeated, his voice didn't have the same tone than earlier, maybe less harsh. Hermione's stare was dissolving his anger, how annoying.

"Maybe you should pay a little more attention, guys... guys?"

"It was a stupid pun on Sirius. Malfoy is the lowest git. He deserves nothing more than a spanking," she told Harry. "He's a prat, selfish slug, spoilt brat. I'll tell you what makes _him_ feel good: making you angry, making you feel guilty over Sirius's death. I pity him, Harry. That's all he deserves, pity."

I listened attentively. I certainly didn't pity Malfoy. They go on and rough the Slytherin up for all I care. No, I wanted them to rough him up.

"Will you listen to me for once! Malfoy is here and you're still talking like if it was tea time!"

At the mention of Malfoy's name, Harry' and Hermione's heads wiped around first towards Ron who was fuming, his cheeks bright red, then down the corridor. Malfoy had his shoulder propped against the doorframe, clapping his hands, a smirk across his face. Harry hadn't realised that the cloak had slipped from their shoulders to the floor, leaving all three in plane sight.

"Bravo, bravo. That was a heart-warming speech, Mudblood. Sorry that Sirius Black wasn't able to make it here to hear it out." The two forms of Goyle and Crabb shadowed Draco like usual.

"Wrong on that one, Malfoy," I told him, realising that I had regained my ability to talk. Technically, I was still here, but not alive enough to have my way with him, which was such a shame. Oh, and there was the wizard with the Top-hat again, standing behind them. Now, what was he doing here? I ignored him for the moment.

Harry was standing very still, his hand gripping his wand in his cloak pocket, Hermione's had gone to rest on his arm in comfort. "Harry, don't let him get to you," she whispered before taking a step back, getting her own wand out.

"Going to get the Mudblood order you around like dog?" I had to agree with Malfoy a little, but I didn't understand the point he'd tried to make with the 'dog' part. Dogs have nothing in relation with Hermione. Dogs are nice, dogs are friendly, dogs are dangerous, dogs are _sexy_… And I know what I'm talking about!

"By the way," Draco continued. "I'll take that spanking offer if you like, only if you come along with a leather underwear." He winked at Hermione, producing a growl from Harry and a "leather uder-what?" from Ron. The Weasley seemed to have regained most of his hearing by now.

"Shall we start?"

"Ron's my Second," Harry said immediately.

Draco seemed to think. "No, I don't think so."

And before Harry had time to protest a red curse was flying this way. To his dismay, Ron and Hermione were tackled by Crabb and Goyle. But he didn't have time to go to their aid for more red flares were shooting his way. How exiting! All I needed now was a comfy armchair and a box of Minced Mice to make the show a success worth remembering. If I still had had a heart, it would have been beating very fast in my chest.

Ron was sporting a black eye now and was trying to hex Goyle with Goblin Earsof which I didn't see the point, except making the bloke even more aglier that he was already. Meanwhile, Hermione was busy making small explosions, blinding Crabb so he wouldn't grab her with his saucepan hands and literally squash her. Why weren't the two goons using their wands anyway? And the man of the Top-Hat was still standing on his own, watching also.

"Hey? Why aren't you fighting too?" I shouted his way. "Come on, there's still place for another. They won't mind."

And then I froze. He looked up at me, his eyes round, _staring_ AT _me_. I must have gulped. Impossible! Impo- Impossi…. I took a step towards him. Too late, he was fleeing. "Wait!" I called, and ran after him. "Come on! Wait up there!"

If I was alive, I would have been out of breath. I was flying down the corridor, leaving the fight behind, my eyes intent on the ends of his purple robes. I was gaining on him. Yes, nearly there.

The figure turned right. I grinned excitingly. This was it. I turned sharply and down the next cold stone corridor. I wasn't sure if I was running anymore, I wasn't able to feel the ground under my feet anyway. I was slicing through the air like an arrow just released from the bow.

I already imagining what would happen next. I'd ask him a thousand questions. We would exchange stories, special moments from our lives, dissipating the boredom of the long decades.

I caught a glimmer of his features as he looked back at me. His well rounded face told everything of his fears. And turmoil. If anyone had been able to see mine, it would be reflecting the exact same feelings of surprise and terror. I was sure I was looking like a wild animal about right now.

He wasn't far off anymore. Another few feet from my grasping hand. Did I expect to actually physical catch him? I would never find out, for just when my fingers were about to curl around the flapping hood of his cloak, he disappeared out of thin air. Poof! He was no more. And I was left completely alone in the empty corridor of Hogwarts.

Damn! I huffed in anger, wondering if I was having another hallucination.

It was at that moment Peeves decided to appear, waving two wands in the air as if he was still able to do magic. He was chanting something that went like this "Potty lost his Sissy, oh poor Potty, all alone..."

I glared at the Poltergeist. How dare he! I let out a roar of exasperation. I had probably missed the whole of the fight by now and lost the only person that could probably SEE me!

I wanted to cry and laugh all at the same time. My present situation felt strange to say the least. I sagged down to the ground with sigh. I was dead, but still here, wasn't I? Why then? Was this some of punishment of all his failures from my life? Letting Prissy down, James, Lily. Being wrong about Peter? Failing Harry, when I was meant to protect him, and instead, trying to enjoy my unlife? Was it a fare trade? Why? What was my purpose now that I was not of the living world anymore? And Harry and Hermione would be going out: what a horrible match. My godson needed someone better than that!

The answers was simple.

I had just crossed someone like myself. I was sure of it. No one had seemed to notice him, except me, Sirius. He had had been the only one to have notice that I still existed. I decided to hunt him down, and get answers.

Meanwhile... Time blinked by and I was beside Harry's bed again.

The trio had gone back to their dormitory, helping Ron up the stairs, as his legs had turned to jelly for a while. Malfoy seemed to have fled the fight when Goyle and Crabb hit the ground, stunned. Three against one didn't suit him, I guess. The coward!

"Hello Harry. It's me again," I told the sleeping form. Harry's breath came out evenly, his chest rising up and down rhythmically. He seemed peaceful. I envied him. "So, is it to be Hermione? She'll probably boss you around night and day. You can't have that. Are sure about what are you doing?" I wanted something of an answer, a sign that I was really alive, and this was only a bad dream. "Answer me Harry. Or do you have someone else you have your eyes on?"

A loud snore escaped from a bed next door, Neville's or Seamus's, I wasn't sure. It sounded like a rare piece of Tchaikovski, the wizard born twin, the solo part from a concerto in D minor to be exact.

I watched Harry expectantly. "Tell me it isn't Hermione that you fancy. Tell me it's someone else..."

Harry opened his mouth slightly, leaving a large snore of his own escape. He closed it a couple of times, on the border of the Dream Realm, not quite awake, but not completely asleep either. "Ron," he mumbled before plunging back into deep slumber.

"Ron?" I spluttered. "Now wait a minute!"

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Fhew... chapter two is now up! Feel free to comment and review. Your opinion is always appreciated. Thanks for the last reviews, you rock! ;) 


	3. It is I Sirius Black

It is I

What would you do if you knew you were going to die the following day, at half past six in the morning, just as the sun would peak over the hill and bathe the world anew?

Well I, Sirius Black, know what I would have done. I would have started with a fire whisky with my friends, all rounded up for the occasion. "Here here," I would have said. "Do not show me those sorrowful faces, laugh drink and be merry!"

Then I would have patted James on the back, shared a last joke with him, given Remus a friendly shove and a farewell word, and to Peter, an avada Kedavra, for good measure. Turn Lily red with a few but well placed words which would make her say "Sirius, grow up!"

Then I would cross my mother, and she'd smile at me because her prayers would finally come true: her perfidious son would finally be out of her life and buried six feet under. Dear Regulus would stand behind her, and watch me leave with the same enthusiasm. But then I would turn around towards them, send them some rude remark which would make them flush with anger; and off I would go with a good laugh.

I'd share a last kiss with Prissy and then march away down and over the hill, running towards the wild moon, tail waggling, and howl a last time to tell them that I, Sirius Black would be gone for good as soon as the sun would rise over the horizon.

I did not get that chance; my death came as a surprise. No warning, just an endless fall and then I was no more. There were no childhood friends to send me off into the underworld, no family (I could hardly call Bella my cousin), no Prissy.

But Harry was there, he witnessed my fall, down and down and through the veil, never to come forth again.

I've thought about my death many times now- well I do have the time. No more games, no more pranks, nothing to entertain me anymore and sweep any thoughtful questions away. And because of this lack of amusement, I am now obliged to come face to face with metaphysical interrogations about death. How indistinguishably boring it all sounds, I'm afraid.

After have spent so many hours in the halls of Hogwarts, I've started to wonder how much time exactly I've been spending in the company of Harry, Ron and Hermione. Too long is the answer. Shouldn't they have passed their Newts already? Gone and get married? Spawned a couple of kids? For me, it seems as if I've now spent centuries haunting these halls as Harry's shadow trying to find anything to keep me from falling into complete boredom, which has now become a fatality.

Every word Harry speaks I've already seemed to have heard. Every glance that Hermione has for Harry and Ron and about everyone, I can name. Every meal that Ron has ever eaten I seem to know. Is there nothing new to be found? Is there any reason I should be existing? Could you even call this thing, an existence?

I have no power on the outside world, no real voice, no presence, no visible figure. Can I even claim to exist anymore? I know what is living – or more precisely existing - : being considered by your peers. To be seen is to exist. I exist for no one but myself. It was enough at the beginning when I could sustain the illusion that I was still something of this world, but now I crave attention, and I feel as if I am truly no more, that I am nothing. I now wish I could wink out like a flame on a too short candlestick.

Sirius does not want to be Sirius anymore. Sirius has known death, but he now wishes for more than death itself, he wishes for complete and utter destruction: to become nothing at all, leave the illusion that he is still Sirius and make his inner voice hushed.

Once again I am standing, or so it seems, behind Harry's chair. It's Binns' class, history of magic, I know his speech by heart. The goblin wars. The goblins' names that seemed so foreign when I was alive now seem awfully familiar and come easily to my mind. I could count the freckles on Ron's nose. Harry for who I laid my soul down, who I love so dearly like my own son has become – to my horror – a subject of boredom.

This must end now, I think to myself. Today I still know my name, but tomorrow… who knows? I dread and desire at the same time such a day.

Without me realising it, class has finished, the students have left and I have still not moved. The sun has disappeared, the room is now dark.

I did not fear dying. But this whole life after death has been a great disappointment. I am scared of this emptiness, just like this room, bland and boring.

Someone enters the classroom, wand lit. Three students trickle in, it is Mafoy, Crabb and Goyle. I do not feel the same hate as before towards them, I feel indifferent. Why they've come in here? I do not care. Probably to steal the next essay they'll have to work on, set a prank for next day… I've seen it all before.

But something catches my attention. A man in a bowler hat.

As the three boys leave, he chooses not to follow. He stands there still, without a word. Should I feel curious? Something does scream that I should. This man I have seen before, yet no name comes to my mind.

I shift a little, getting rid of my torpor.

Yes, there is something particular about this man. What is it? I search franticly, but nothing comes. But I do not need to search any farther, because he gives me the answer to my wondering.

"Are you, are you…" he stutters, speaking to the empty room. I hardly notice. "Are you Sirius Black?"

I look at him, I truly look at him with all the surprise I can muster. It is as if I've gained my body again, and the air has been swept from my lungs by a powerful blow. It's been awhile since I've felt as alive.

"Yes, it is I." Words like a balm to the soul.

Sorry, but I changed this chapter all around. Very melancholic chapter for Sirius which is starting to have difficulties with the fact that he is _no more_.


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